


Strangers are Bad for Business

by hopefulwriter27



Series: Strangers!Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulwriter27/pseuds/hopefulwriter27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melody picks up our two favorite brothers for a night of quick cash. Things don't turn out the way she expected. Outsider's POV</p><p>Author's Notes: This is a sequel to Don't Kiss Strangers, which is a sequel to Strangers in a Bar. You should probably read those first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers are Bad for Business

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: evil!Sam and evil!Dean

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Melody didn’t notice them at first. She’s made it rule not to focus on individual customers. Her body twisted around the pole, long legs and tight stomach on display.  Money was imperative for her, and stripping brought in the money.  The club was full that Saturday night. Men, and a few women, crowded her stage hooting and whistling for her to bend a certain way or to untie her top. She blew a few of them sultry kisses, the ones that sent anything higher than a ten her way. Mostly she just smiled knowingly, ignored their words, and focused on the swing of her hips.

It wasn’t until her song ended that she noticed them. Her music faded into the generic dance-rap the club DJ played when the girls weren’t dancing. She was leaning down, picking up a few bills that hadn’t made it into her hands or g-string while dancing. She saw the light blue of the taller one’s shirt, and as she stood she followed the man’s torso up. He had a handsome face. Faint red stained his cheeks, though Mel wasn’t close enough to tell if he was embarrassed or turned on. His eyes were a warm brown, and he had a soft mouth when he wasn’t sipping on his beer. The other man was beautiful. He wasn’t as tall, but he had a model’s lean face and plump, perfectly shaped lips. _He would make a fortune stripping, _she thought cynically, _or whoring._  

Every few seconds they would bump hips and brush shoulders. Neither one was dancing, bopping to the beat like several other patrons of the club, but even so their bodies swayed, ever so slightly, right into each other’s personal space. _Boyfriends out for a night of curious look-an-see with the cheapest strip joint in town. _Mel guessed. It wouldn’t be the first time curious bi-boys came around to get their fill of female flesh. She flashed them both a grin, they were very easy on the eyes, but then turned her attention elsewhere. There was no use playing for men who were only interested in looking.

Her night passed slowly. There were a few older men, balding with round, fat bellies who kept her attention for a good two hours. They all paid for lap dances, and laughed, red-faced and wallets open, as she pressed her breast under their chins and teased her butt over their thighs. Mel hid her disgust for them, rings glittering gold on their right hands, with easy born of practice. _I should get a fucking Oscar_, she snarled to herself as the man under her got a little grabby.  Finally, once all three men had their money’s worth of raunchy dances, they left, promising to come back another night. Mel never doubted them for a second.

After the dances, Mel made her way to the small employees’ area of the club. The room was small and cramped. A battered pair of wooden chairs was pushed against one wall, and a decade old vending machine, that only served grape Faygo and Mountain Dew, was leaning against the opposite wall.  Charlie, the club manager-slash-owner had gotten a wobbly vanity for the girls to sit at and put on make-up. It was covered in powered flakes of red and pink. The whole surface of the small desk shimmered when the overhead light was turned on.  However, when the girls danced, the overhead light stayed off. It was too bright and shinned through the cracks of the door, casting unappealing shadows throughout the club. Right now, a standing light was on, only providing enough light for Mel to see a few feet in front of her. It didn’t matter though, that was all the light she needed to see her money.

The bills crinkled as she counted each one. “Three hundred and forty-two dollars,” she whispered aloud. It was a decent amount of money for a Thursday night, but it wasn’t enough for this particular Thursday night. Mel closed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She needed to make more before she went home. Hopelessness clogged her chest, and she let herself have a minute to despair. Then she locked the feeling away and ran a hand through her dark brown curls. She pasted a smile onto her face, adjusted her breasts inside the small purple bikini top, and went back onto the club floor.

It was close to closing, many of the people who had been around for her dance had left for the night.  A few drunken regulars were miserable together at the bar, and Mick was happily taking their money as he served them another watered-down drink.  Mel scanned the room searching for a target. She passed over Roger, the attractive middle-age man who came every Tuesday and Thursday night. He was here for Tracy. Then her eyes landed on the two bi-boys.

They were standing in the corner of the bar, in the near dark, next to a broken gambling machine, shoulders still touching. Brown beer bottles rested in their grips, and Mel wondered how many they had tonight. _Hopefully enough to want to fuck a chick, _she mused. Hips swaying in her high-heeled shoes, Melody made her way over. As she came closer both sets of eyes narrowed in a familiar arch of lust. _Bingo,_ Mel thought with a smile.

“Hey’ya boys. Having a good night?” Mel rested on her hips. Both men shifted, and Mel stood a little straighter. These guys seemed like the type to like a dominant woman.

The pretty one, the one with the glass green eyes, puffed out his lips in a smirk and said, “We are now that you’re here.” Mel swayed back, and he swayed with her. _Gotcha, _her mind snapped.  

She reached out a finger and dragged her nail down the center of his chest. “Is that so?” She lowered her eyes and tilted her body forward until her breasts brushed against the edged of his leather jacket.  The pad of a calloused finger traced a line down her bare arm. She glanced over her shoulder.

“We watched you dance.” The bigger one said. His body wasn’t touching her, but she could still feel the heat him. Both men smelled like warm earth and masculinity. Their clothes were a little worn, which fit if they were trying to slum, but they were both clean. That was a major plus in her book.

Mel giggled and leaned into the fingers on her shoulder. “You were paying attention to little ole me? How sweet.”  She twisted her body, squeezed between the two men, and leaned against the wall. With a practiced flick of her head, her hair cascaded over her shoulders. She knew it framed her chest perfectly.

“We noticed you from the moment we came in,” brown eyes stated. He leaned into her personal space, as if to smell her hair, and said, “You’re beautiful.”

She tilted her head up, to look into his eyes and replied, “Actually, I’m Melody.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and green-eyes let out a laugh. “Damn,” he said, “You’re spunky. I like it.” Mel took her eyes from the man towering over her, and shot the boyfriend a smirk. _Attitude is definitely the way to go with these boys, _she thought with a hint of smugness. Mel had gotten good at reading people over the years.  

Green eyes gave her an open-mouthed grin, all sparkling white teeth and lush lips, and said, “Nice you meet-cha Melody. I’m Dean.”  He didn’t offer a hand, and she didn’t stick out hers.

“Dean. What a strong name,” she flirted. She doubted it was his real one. Her eyes swung over to the other man. “And what’s you name handsome?”

His jean-clad leg brushed against her bare one when he said, “Sam. I’m Sam.”

_These boys definitely want to fuck, _Mel thought. She placed her hand flat against Sam’s chest. She could feel hard muscle underneath his plaid blue and green shirt. Her other hand was placed over Dean’s chest. He wasn’t quite as muscled, but he was still hard. “Sam. Dean. ” She flicked her tongue over her lower lip. Both boys followed the motion. “It is your lucky day. I only charge two-fifty for couples.”

Amusement brightened Dean’s eyes, and with a chuckle he said, “Here that Sammy? She only charges two-fifty for _couples._”

Sam’s eyes darkened and he shot Dean an unhappy look. Mel watched as they had some unspoken conversation, and for a long minute she wondered if she just fucked this whole thing up.  Then Sam turned back to her. His eyes were still heated, but the corners of his mouth turned upwards. “What if I just want to watch?”  

He’s teasing her, and she didn’t like to be teased. So Mel pushed. “Never been with a girl before? Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it good.” She nibbled her bottom lip with her teeth and slid her hand over his crotch.

Lightening fast, anger clouded Sam’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dean spoke first. “Sam’s a one person type of guy.” His hand wrapped around her wrist, and he pulled her off Sam. “And sweetheart, I’m that person.” His hand was too tight for comfort; she yanked her arm free. Her eyes flicked to Mick, but he’s too busy at the bar to notice her.

“Don’t grab me,” she told them.  Both boys look angry, and if Mel didn’t need the money so badly, she would have ended the night right there. She leaned back against the wall once more. She let one hand drape across her thin, tan thigh and the other play with the leather choker around her neck. Her eyes lowered and she looked at both boys through her eyelashes. “I charge extra for that.”

Dean laughed and Sam shook his head. “Tell you what.” Dean moved until his mouth was right beside her ear. He whispered, “How about we give you three hundred, and you come to our hotel room. I’ll fuck you three ways ‘till Sunday, and Sam here will sit on the other bed and get off watching and imagining?”

An uneasy tremble wracked her body. Dean’s hot breath scorched her ear as he waited for an answer. The words weren’t different than she had heard before. In fact, she had heard much worse. However, there was something dark in the tenseness of Dean’s shoulders as well as hidden behind Sam’s good-boy face. She didn’t want to go anywhere with these boys. “Why go all the way to your place? We can go in the back room here. Don’t you want me now, baby?” She traced a nail down the valley between her breasts.

“Naw.” Dean pressed a butterfly kiss against her jaw. She tilted back until his lips peeled away from her skin. “Sammy has this issue with getting it on in unknown places. It gives him the creeps.” There’s humor in his words, but Mel heard the steely ‘WE DO IT OUR WAY’ behind the words.

She gave her safety a moment of thought then said, “Three-fifty and we’ll go to your place.” They exchanged another unreadable look, and Mel wondered how long they’ve been together to be this good at nonverbal communication.

Coming to an unspoken agreement, Sam said, “Alright. Three-fifty for a few hours at our place.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a beat-up brown leather wallet. Mel watched hungrily as he fingered the bills inside then counted out three hundreds and a fifty. He held out half the money; it was folded over his finger, and shoved the other half back into his wallet. “You’ll get the rest when we’re finished.”  

Mel nodded. That was typical. She stretched out to take the bills then hesitated. Her eyes flickered from Sam to Dean. The lust was easy to read on their faces, but still something about them bothered her. _Three hundred and fifty dollars Mel, _she reminded herself. _That will put you around seven hundred for the night. That’s plenty for Jeffrey’s bills tomorrow. _She took the money.

“Let me get my pants and jacket and we’ll go.” They nodded and she went to the back, put on her clothes, and strapped her purse over her shoulder.  She nodded to Mick on her way out, he gave her a little salute, and she followed Sam and Dean outside. Cool night air prickled at any exposed skin, and Mel wished summer would hurry up and arrive. _Stupid Ohio weather, _she silently complained. _It’s fucking sixty during the day and thirty at night. _The boys led her to a fancy black muscle car. She whistled. “Damn, fellas. My ex would have killed for this car.”

Dean slid his hand down the curve of the hood. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Sam rolled his eyes and Mel couldn’t hold back her grin at the moon-eyes Dean was making at the car. Hand never leaving the shiny metal, Dean walked over to the driver’s side door.  Getting in, he reached over and unlocked the passenger side door.

“You’ll have to sit in the back.” Sam stated. He rolled the seat forward and stepped back.

_What fucking gentlemen, _Mel thought, not that she expected anything different. Men were pigs- plain and simple. Well aware their eyes were glued to her back, Mel ducked inside. Surprisingly, the backseat was comfortable and roomy. The leather seat, while obviously old, was in perfect condition.  She settled in and buckled her seatbelt. Her eyes drifted upwards and she caught Dean staring at her in the rearview mirror. Lustful hunger enlarged his pupils, and Mel swallowed back a lump of unease. To cut the tension in the air, she lifted up the seatbelt strap and said, “Safety first.”

This time it was Sam who laughed. He turned in his seat to face her. “That’s right,” he said, buckling his own belt, “you can never be too safe.” He shrugged his thumb towards Dean. “Especially the way this one drives.”      

“Hey!” Dean complained then started the engine. “Don’t listen to a word he says. I’m a fantastic driver.” As if to demonstrate, he put a hand on the back of Sam’s headrest and gunned the car backwards, out of the parking space. Mel jerked forward, only to be caught by her seatbelt.

“Hey cowboy, unless you want these babies smashed, I suggest going a little easier.” Mel said while patting her breasts. Neither of the boys said anything, but by the time Dean pulled onto the main street, the car is driving smoothly. Soon, Dean was turning left onto interstate one-sixty-one, and Mel asked, “Hey, how far is your hotel?”

“Why? Having another john after us?” Sam’s dry words sliced across the car. Anger rushed into her lungs. She disliked these boys more and more every second. Instead of replying though, Mel opened her purse and slipped her hand inside. She fingered the money and told herself to stay calm. _Jeffery needs you. _She let the words repeat in her mind until the anger faded away.

Five minutes turned into ten, Dean turned left off the interstate, and the street light disappeared. Mel peered out the window looking for anything familiar. The car’s headlights casted a yellow shadow a few feet in front of the car, and Mel caught sight of tall grass on either side of the two-lane road. Trees loomed, dark and ominous, on the left side of the road. There were empty fields, and the occasional house spread across the right. _We haven’t been driving that long, _she thought. _Where the hell are we?_ Another minute passed by in heavy silence.

Since her surroundings weren’t familiar, Mel focused on the boys upfront. Dean had one hand in the ten position, guiding the car. His other hand tapped out a quiet beat against the steering wheel. Every so often he would send Sam a look filled with excited lust. Sam, on the other hand, didn’t seem to move an inch. She could make out his thick hair and the broad sweep of his back, but not much else. His body actually seemed too still.  He wasn’t fidgeting or bouncing his leg. His head faced forward, never turning to look out the window. It was completely unnatural, especially for somebody who was about to get off, and red warning flags started waving around inside Mel’s head.  

The silence frayed her nerves, and she prayed someone would speak. As if some higher power was listening, a loud wailing ring shrieked from her purse, nearly giving her a heart attack. The car jerked. “Fuck. Turn that off,” Dean exclaimed. Mel looked up then smirked at the startled look on Dean’s face. Even Sam had turned around at the sound. His forehead was scrunched in a frown, and his lips were in a light line. She fumbled around in her purse until her fingers wrapped around the buzzing phone. She had every intention of ignore the call, but her eyes happened to catch the caller ID. _ Kenny, _she read.

“Sorry boys, I need to answer this real quick.” She flipped open the phone, ignoring the boy’s dark gazes.  “Kenny, honey, what’s the matter? I’m working.”  

“I know mom,” her eldest said over the phone. “Jeff has a fever again, and I can’t find the baby aspirin.” Mel’s heart clenched at Kenny’s worried words. She wished desperately she was home taking care of her children. She hated putting the responsibility on Kenny.

“Did you look in the bathroom cabinet?” she asked. The car rumbled under her and Mel realized that Dean had pulled into a small, empty-looking motel.  

“Of course mom. I looked there and in the kitchen drawer.” Kenny said patiently.

_Where did I put that damn aspirin? _Mel forced herself to think. “Look on my dresser in the bedroom.” The car shut off, and she heard Kenny shuffling through the house.

 The sound of rustling plastic crackled over the line, and then Kenny said, “I got it mom. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome baby. I love you,” she said.

A soft sigh filtered over the phone, and then Kenny said, “Be careful mom. Come home soon. I love you.” The phone beeped. She flipped her phone shut and stuffed back into her purse.

“Sorry about that boys. It was important.” Mel gave Sam and Dean a pouty grin. She unbuckled herself then leaned forward until one arm rested on the back of each boy’s seat.

Dean turned around; his own belt already unbuckled, and cupped her face. His thumb pressed into her lips. It was Sam who spoke. “Telling your boyfriend where to find the sex toys?” The pressure of Dean’s thumb becomes painful. She jerks her head back, but is stopped by the tightening of Dean’s fingers.

Fear and anger make her snarl, “For your fucking information that was my son Kenny, who was asking where his brother’s medicine was.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She _never_ talked about her family to any of her clients.

Dean dropped her face like he had been burned. “You have children?” His eyes were wide and he breathed like they had already fucked. Sam had become stiff in his seat.

_Fuck, _Mel thought, _this is why I don’t tell them about the kids. _Men hated the thought of a whore having kids. They liked the fantasy of crazy, single, non-childbearing slut. Mel would have lied, but the cat was already out of the bag. “Two boys. One is ten the other four.” She ran a hand through her hair. They looked at each other, eyes dark, and she knew she was losing them. She unbuttoned her jacket and let her breasts, barely encased in the bikini top, fall into the empty space between the front seats.  “But that’s enough about them. Come on fellas, let’s get out of this car and into the room. I’m ready to get this party started.”

Dean swallowed uneasily, and she took his thumb into her mouth and sucked. He swallowed again then looked nervously at Sam. She knew that to convince Dean, she needed to convince Sam. She nipped Dean’s finger and the pulled back. “Don’t you want to watch your boyfriend and I Sam?” she asked huskily. Sam’s eyes filled with tense lust, but instead of replying, he opened the door and practically jumped out.  Before Mel had time to react, he was yanking the seat forward, and his giant hand was wrapped around her arm.

“Hey!” She shouted as he hauled her out of the car. Gravel from the broken parking lot pavement bounced into her heels. “God damn! What the hell is wrong with you?” He shoved her away. She stumbled forward. Mel whirled around only to see Sam reaching in the car for her purse. Dean stepped out of the car and slammed his door shut.

 “Take it,” Sam growled as he shoved her purse into her chest.

Dean strode towards her. He put his hands on her shoulders. His breath curled around her skin as he barked, “Leave, now.”  

Mel’s jaw dropped. They wanted to her walk away _here_? She had no idea where she was, and besides, “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you two freaks, but give me my goddamn money and I’ll be happy to go,” she snarled.  

Sam’s eyes seemed to flash gold. She shook her head and looked at him again. His eyes were the normal brown, and he was getting back into the car. Fury overtook her. She had come all the way out here with these crazies, and she needed the rest of that money. Jeffery needed his medication. She grabbed the sleeve of Sam’s leather coat. “Give the rest of my money, fucker.”   One second she’s gripping Sam, and the next Mel’s crashing, butt first, into the gravel. “Keep your hands off my brother.” Dean’s voice was low with heated anger.  Little spiked rocks poked into her skin through her pants. The cool night air circled around her, and Mel felt angrier than she had in years.

Without thinking, she struck out with her heel. She hit the solid flesh of Dean’s left leg. He grunted in surprised pain. His head whipped up, and Mel knew she had made a mistake.  “Son of a bitch,” he shouted.   Crab-crawling backwards, Mel gasped as he stepped forward. She wasn’t fast enough. One of his boots crunched the gravel between her legs and the other smashed down in the space between her arm and side. Mel let out a startled yelp, and then a flash of silver caught her attention. Tucked into the back of his book was a knife. It had a leather wrapped handle and a hint of the metal blade was showing. It had been pulled upwards from the brown sheath.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes begun to sting.  Slowly, Mel’s gaze drifted upwards. The wind howled, flapping Dean’s jacket. The car was a few feet away, and Sam’s boyish face stared out the window at them. Pebbles torn into her palms, but Mel couldn’t focus on any of that. Her attention was glued to the piece hanging the gun holster at Dean’s side. She blinked, and hot tears clouded her vision. “Please,” she pleaded, “please don’t kill me.”  _I’m never going to see my children again, _she thought.

A rumble roared through air and shook the ground. Mel cried harder. Through her tears she saw Dean touch his gun. She squeezed her eyes shut. Dean moved, the gravel crunching under his feet. Mel kept her eyes shut and sobbed. A moment passed and she heard the sound of a door slamming. She opened her eyes in surprise. Dean had gotten back into the car. Staring, Mel watched as Sam rolled down the window. “Go home to your kids. We don’t to mothers.” The car screeched forward and Metallica’s _Riding the Lightening_ blasted from the window.

In seconds the car blended into the dark, faded away into the distance. Mel wiped away her tears and pushed herself to her feet. Trembling, she brushed away the gravel.She had no idea where she was, but she pulled out her cell phone anyway. Fingers fumbling, she called Mick, hoping he could find her and drive her home. She needed to see her boys. _I’m never picking up strangers again. _     

 

 


End file.
